The Whipped Heiress Ch. 02

It was embarrassing, but I spread my swollen pubic lips apart and jammed my fingers even deeper inside of me. I fingered myself roughly, plunging my fingers in deep and moaned shamelessly.

it was very humiliating fingering myself like that, but I was a slave. By Sklavian law and by Ms. Nomikou's rules, these maids could punish me for being disobedient. I panted as I fingered my g-spot and pumped my clit simultaneously. I trembled as I degraded myself for two lowly household servants and I spread my legs even wider and I arched my back, putting my breasts shamelessly on display as my orgasm approached.

I felt vulnerable as I felt my orgasm approaching. My knees were buckling, and my fingers were soaking wet with my own juices. I felt shamelessly lewd and indecent as I finger fucked myself for the entertainment of two kitchen menials, but it didn't matter. I was just a slave following orders. I was helpless to disobey. I had no choice.

My whole body was bathed in sweat as my orgasm reached the point of no return. I gasped and panted so boisterously I was certain everyone on the first floor could hear me. It was shameful, but I continued to finger my pussy until I was overcome with uncontrollable spasms.

I was shamelessly exposed and on display at one of my most intimate moments. The scullery maids watched me intently and with cruel smirks on their faces. It was degrading to be forced into doing something so private for a crude, prurient audience, however, on a certain level I was grateful that I was going to be allowed to finally have some sexual relief.

I moaned loudly as my fingers penetrated deep and stimulated delicious nerve endings. One of the scullery maids pulled out a phone and took photos and videos of my shameful display. She stood back far enough so she could get both my facial expression and my widespread legs as I thrust two fingers energetically into my soaking wet pussy.

I was naked and the shameful center of attention, being ogled and videoed as I shamelessly and wantonly pleasured myself. I surrendered to my feelings of shame and degradation and fucked myself until I exploded in sexual ecstasy. I shouted and panted, and my orgasm seemed to go on for hours.

At some point my knees buckled. My legs gave out and I collapsed to the floor, panting and feeling a long series of mini orgasms, as my sex continued to spasm. My body went limp, and I laid there on the floor, panting and blurry-eyed as I looked up at the kitchen menials in a post-orgasmic haze.

_ _

Mrs. Bowden liked the smooth, hairless look of my vulva, however, she felt that slaves shouldn't be allowed to shave themselves. She believed that it would be much more demeaning for me if she took me to a total stranger and had all my pubic hair waxed off. So, she waited until I had enough stubble to be visible and asked Anastasia to drive me to a beauty salon where they did bikini waxes.

Anastasia escorted me inside, spoke to a receptionist in Sklavian for a few moments and then the receptionist got on the phone and spoke to someone else.

I couldn't understand a word that was said, however, Anastasia told me that there were trained professionals in the back who had experience with bikini waxes and one of them would be out shortly. As I waited in the lobby, three women of varying ages stared intently at my nudity and seemed to be talking about me amongst themselves. The oldest of the women made a comment which I can only assume was supposed to be demeaning and the other two women laughed. The youngest of the women was a cute, slender, dark-eyed female in her late teens or early twenties. She pulled out her phone and took several photos of me as I stood there naked and blushing with humiliation.

The three women who were openly studying my naked body were taken one by one into the back to get their waxing or facials or bleaching done or whatever it was they came in for. Eventually, a young, congenial woman with Mediterranean skin, dark hair swept into t tight bun and dark eyes strolled into the lobby.

Speaking in English, the receptionist turned to me and said, "Heather, this is Helena. She'll be doing your bikini wax. You're in good hands with her. Just be a good girl, follow her into the waxing suite and do whatever she says."

Helena was friendly and polite. She didn't ogle me like so many other people I'd encountered since becoming a slave. She smiled, led me back to a waxing suite and told me to step inside.

"The management has a strict policy about slaves," Helena explained apologetically. "I have to restrain you while the waxing procedure is done. I know that probably seems unfair and discriminatory, but I don't have any choice in the matter."

"I don't hold it against you," I said. "You're just doing your job. And it's hardly the first time I've been placed in bondage. It happens to slaves a lot."

Helena smiled brightly at me and said, "That's a healthy attitude. I like it. Just get in the chair and I'll strap you in."

Helena gestured towards a leather upholstered chair that looked almost identical to a gynecologist's chair, with knee crutch stirrups for my legs. And as Helena implied, there were leather straps with buckles that could be used to restrain my wrists, ankles, and knees.

Helena was all smiles and good cheer as she buckled me into the chair, first my ankles, then my knees. She saved my wrists for last. Then Helena pushed the stirrups of the chair apart, causing my swollen pubic lips to become lewdly exposed. She smiled as she got a good look at the most intimate part of my female anatomy, and I blushed hotly under her gaze.

It seems that I'm constantly blushing since I became a slave. I don't think I'll ever get used to the eyes of strangers running up and down my naked body.

After snapping on latex surgical gloves, Helena gave me a reassuring smile and retrieved a plastic bowl that contained hot wax.

I had never had a bikini wax done before, so Helena very helpfully explained to procedure to me. Basically, she was going to apply hot wax to my vulva, allow it to cool and coalesce around my pubic hairs and then she would yank the wax away, pulling my pubic hairs out by the roots.

"Won't that hurt?" I asked, feeling vulnerable now that I had been restrained to the chair with my legs bound lewdly far apart.

"Yes," Helena admitted, "but it shouldn't be any worse than the sort of pain you're used to."

I took a deep breath and braced myself. Slaves spend a great deal of time dealing with pain, but that doesn't mean we enjoy it. Okay, sometimes we enjoy it, but it has to be mixed in with eroticism, and even then, we sometimes end up screaming in agony when the pain is at its most intense levels.

I watched as Helena spread the warm wax in between my thighs. I was pleased at the temperature of the gooey substance. It wasn't too hot, and I relaxed slightly as one of my worries had been proven overblown.

And then I gasped as a swath of my pubic hair was ripped out by the roots. There was an explosion of pain as my pubes were yanked out and I squirmed in my bonds. Then Helena ripped out another patch of my pubic hair and I gasped again, this time even louder.

"I know, it hurts, right?" Helena said, commiserating, "But it'll all be over in a few minutes."

The congenial woman applied more melted wax to my Venus mound and then there were more jolts of red-hot pain as more of my delicate hairs were ripped out. This time my pubic lips were pulled up and slightly apart, making me feel more exposed and vulnerable. There was another flash of pain as Helena ripped out more of my pubic hair, however, the pain was becoming mixed with eroticism and my sex pulsed wetly.

Helena smiled encouragingly at me as she spread my legs even further apart. She told me that I was being a good girl and that she was proud of how well I was dealing with the procedure. Then she stood between my open legs and applied more hot wax to the tender flesh of my pussy.

"Aaahhh," I gasped. The wax felt more hurtful now that my pubic area was sore and reddened. I looked down at my crotch and my entire genital area looked inflamed.

"Ooh, a little sensitive, are we?" Helena asked. Then she proceeded to tear another patch of wax off and I let out a girlish yelp of pain.

I was feeling helpless and vulnerable and then Helena produced a small, plastic jar of white cream and smoothed some of it across my pained vulva.

"Oooooh," I sighed as I felt a warm, numbing sensation soothe the pain.

If she had continued to rub that cream in for another minute or two, I'm certain she would have rubbed me to orgasm, however, she stopped after a few seconds and applied more wax to my sensitive loins.

The hot wax coated my pink slit and the heat from the wax merged with the heat within my sex. I felt a strong urge to reach down and finger myself to orgasm and then Helena spread my legs even further apart, leaving my pornographically exposed.

There was additional hot wax added and more of my tiny, delicate pubic hairs were ripped out. The pain was agonizing, but then there was more soothing cream rubbed in.

Eventually, hot wax was poured and molded across the flesh of my lower pubic lips and down across my anus. Once again there was pain as the wax was ripped away and the sensation of the flesh around my asshole being pulled taut. My sex throbbed with hungry spasms, and I desperately wanted Helena to thrust her fingers inside of me, but she just smiled and rubbed more of the white cream into my tender skin.

"You've been a brave girl, Heather. I'm proud of you," Helena said as she inspected my inflamed pussy. A few hairs remained here and there, and she proceeded to tweeze them out, one by one. Each tiny tug caused an agonizing twinge of pain.

Then, Helena pulled gently on a stray hair next to my clit and I moaned in half pleasure, half pain as she plucked it out. Then she found another hair to pluck, and I yelped in pain as it was yanked out by the roots. Helena licked her lips and ran a latex-covered finger along my slit. Then she yanked out another tiny hair near my swollen clit and the pain felt both agonizing and exquisite.

"We're finished now, Heather," Helena informed me with a friendly smile. I'm going to go back out to the lobby and tell your friend she can take you home."

I was left there, bound to the chair in a state of heightened sexual need, breathing heavily and desperately wanting Helena to come back and touch my aching pussy once again. If she would just ram her fingers inside of me, or touch my swollen clit, I knew I could reach orgasm is just a matter of seconds.

It seemed to take forever for Helena to return and I whimpered in sexual need as I strained against my leather restraints, feeling extremely helpless and agonizingly desperate for somebody to touch me. My skin was feverishly hot, and I felt one agonizing wave of desire after another between my legs.

_ _

After I was finally released from my bondage, Anastasia paid for my waxing procedure and escorted me back to the car. I thought she would take me straight back to the estate, but instead she drove to a public park.

"Mistress, why are we here?" I asked as I looked out the window. There was no clue as to why Anastasia would take me to this place.

"Karen Bowden and Corrina Nomikou want you to spend more time being exposed to your adoring public," Anastasia explained. "This place is frequented by locals and tourists alike. It seemed like a good place to put you on display. Now, get out of the car."

Anastasia pulled a picnic basket out of the car and told me to carry it. The basket contained bottled water, some fruit, and several lengths of coiled rope. I assumed the rope would be used to tie me up.

Anastasia shared her food and drink with me, then told me I had to be put on display for my adoring public.

The Park had park benches, jogging paths, bike paths and picnic tables. Anastasia directed me over to one of the picnic tables and ordered me to set the basket down before ordering me to place my hands behind my back with my wrists crossed. My wrists were tied behind my back and anchored to a rope that was tied tightly around my waist. Then, Anastasia tied a length of rope to a stainless-steel ring on my slave collar. Basically, she fashioned it into a leash.

The other end of the rope leach was tied to something underneath the picnic tale. There was enough slack in the leash that I could walk approximately four feet from the picnic table, but no further than that.

Anastasia sat at the table, while I was ordered to stand with my legs apart.

"We'll stay out here for about two hours or so," Anastasia said. "That should be long enough for you to lure some of your fans in for a closer look."

I was naked, with my breasts indecently on display and my legs spread pornographically wide. It didn't take long for my naked body to begin attracting attention. Some Joggers rubbernecked as they jogged past. Others stopped jogging completely and approached me for a closer look at my shamelessly exposed naughty bits.

The joggers were the first to notice the naked girl in the public park. Then, the bicyclists realized that a young, attractive woman had her tits and ass on display, and they coasted towards me to stare openly at my naked body. Both men and women came over and chatted with Anastasia while their eyes fixated on my boobs or my inflamed pubic lips. They spoke in Sklavian so I can't understand a word they were saying. I was silently grateful. If I could understand Sklavian, I'd probably have felt even more humiliated.

One woman playfully slapped my ass right before she walked away. I glared at her when her back was turned and then I heard a woman's voice speaking English.

"Heather? Heather Mädchen? Is that you?"

Her accent was American, and she knew my name. I suddenly felt both feverishly hot and shockingly cold at the same time. My worst fears were realized as someone I knew had seen me naked and bound with a slave collar locked around my throat.

For a moment my heart thudded frantically in my chest, and I felt even more helpless and vulnerable than before. I turned to see who had called out my name and saw a blonde woman in a black sheath dress. She had high cheekbones, intense eyes, and a lopsided smile.

"Grace?" I asked as she walked towards me and looked me up and down. She was obviously shocked to see the daughter of Mallory Mädchen displaying her naked body in a public park. I felt helpless and embarrassed.

Anastasia was almost as surprised as me that I'd run into someone that I knew from my pre-slave days. She turned to me and asked, "Do you two know each other?"

I must have blushed three different shades of red as Grace assessed my naked body, and I turned to Anastasia and said, "This is Grace Fuller. She's a landscape designer who designed the water features at my mother's home."

Then, Grace had her own questions. She stood remarkably close, gave me and intense look and said, "Heather, what's a nice girl like you doing, flashing her naked body in public?"

"I've been enslaved," I replied, feeling my blush deepen. "Legally, I'm not allowed to wear clothes." My humiliation increased as I realized my nipples were hard and erect, and Grace was standing so close there was no way she could fail to notice.

"So, you signed a slave contract?" she asked, "of your own free will?"

I squirmed with embarrassment and helplessly sighed. I admitted that I'd signed a slave contract and that no one had forced me. I told her that I was now the property of an American woman named Karen Bowden.

Grace's eyes got wider and wider the more I told her about my situation and then she asked, "Does your mother know about all this?

I blushed even deeper and averted my eyes. It was a sensitive subject that I didn't want to talk about. Then, Grace pulled out her phone and began to take photos of me. I was naked and bound with ropes and Grace took photo after photo of my naked humiliation. I wanted desperately to grab the phone from her hands, but my arms were bound helplessly behind my back.

"Grace!" I snapped. "What are you doing?"

"I was just thinking that Mallory should know that her only child is in Europe, being led around on a leash and exposing her naked body to total strangers."

"What? No!" I shouted. "You cannot tell her any of that!"

"I'm pretty sure I can," Grace countered. "I know Mallory wouldn't want you to keep something like this a secret from her. She wouldn't want me to keep something like this a secret from her either."

I panicked, and I promised to do anything if Grace would keep her mouth shut and never tell my mother anything about this. I got down on my knees and begged her. Grace seemed to enjoy having a wealthy heiress kneeling in front of her and begging. She put her phone back in her purse and said, "Okay, I'm intrigued. What can you offer me?"

I tried offering her $20,000.00, but Grace knew that slaves aren't allowed to have access to money or personal property of any kind. I wouldn't have access to any of my credit cards or bank accounts until my sixty days of slavery were over. And Grace wanted some sort of immediate reward for her silence.

Then Anastasia inserted herself into the conversation and said, "What about sex?"

Grace and I both turned to look at Anastasia.

"You way you keep ogling Heather, you're obviously attracted to her," Anastasia said to Grace. "And I can tell you from personal experience, Heather is very skilled at using her tongue to please a woman. You'd be a fool to pass up the experience."

Grace had a smoldering look in her eyes. She seemed to consider Anastasia's offer for a few moments and then said, "It's a tempting offer, but where would we do it?"

"Heather is living on Corrina Nomikou's estate during her term of slavery," Anastasia explained. "I'll be taking her there in a few minutes. If you'd like to join me, I'm certain we could find you a room where you could enjoy Heather's skills at Sapphic lovemaking in complete privacy."

There were certain social niceties that needed to be observed before Anastasia and I could have sex. Ms. Nomikou had to be informed that we had brought a guest into her home. And then Ms. Nomikou invited her to have coffee in the drawing room.

After I was untied, I ended up serving coffee to Mrs. Bowden, Ms. Nomikou and Grace Fuller. The three women looked elegant and relaxed as they sat, sipped coffee, and chatted. Meanwhile I felt degraded and exposed as I stood there naked and served them.

Ms. Nomikou was a congenial host, making Grace feel welcome in her home and showing polite interest in her stories about life in America.

Mrs. Bowden was friendly and charming. She complimented Grace on her shoes and bonded with her over clothes.

At some point, the conversation turned, and Grace asked Mrs. Bowden how she managed to get a respected, wealthy woman like me to sign a legally binding contract that would force her to be constantly naked, sexually objectified and degraded in a land seven-thousand miles away from home.

"Not too long ago, Heather and my daughter were playing bondage and discipline games in my home," Mrs. Bowden explained. "Heather had hired an actress to pretend to be her mother. The actress in turn hired my daughter to discipline Heather for her underage drinking."

"Oh, did Heather have a drinking problem?" Grace asked.

"Heavens no," Mrs. Bowden replied. "Heather was a closeted lesbian and a secret masochist. She wanted dominant women to strip her naked, subject her to strict discipline and sexual abuse, but she was too embarrassed to tell my daughter the truth."

"So, she concocted an elaborate ruse and claimed her mother was some sort of strict disciplinarian?"